


Just Sex, Just Once (Five Times)

by dagonst



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/M, Jealous Steve, Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-13 04:18:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/819883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dagonst/pseuds/dagonst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark's sleeping around becomes a problem when he starts working his way through the Avengers.  All the Avengers, except Steve.  Which is kind of the problem.  Steve/Tony, eventually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not On The List

**Author's Note:**

> Started as a kinkmeme fill, expanded to a second 5+1.

### 1\. Blowjobs For Science

First thing this morning, the Avengers blew up an alien armada. And then Stark told them what he’d done with his tower, and then Stark’s imaginary butler ordered them all takeout, and - blame the invasion - Steve hasn’t mustered the energy to tell Stark how high-handed and inappropriate it is to build them a headquarters without asking. 

He’ll lose the argument as soon as Stark points out how often the world seems to need saving now, and how they might be more effective if they trained together more often than never. It still needs to be said, because when he’s thought about getting back into the world, meeting new people... assassins and mad scientists were not what he had hoped for.

But right now - they have saved the world, and Stark spent fifteen minutes detailing the building’s security features. (Barton relaxed visibly at the seven-minute mark; Black Widow at minute twelve.) And now there’s food, and the moment’s passed, and Stark looks - still keyed up, monitoring everything, and it occurs to Steve that he’s nervous about them. 

Bruce gives a rundown on Hulk safeguards, after the first round of pizza and a pointed question from Natasha. His floor’s just under Tony’s, above Steve and the gym and Tony’s building armor - and Stark chimes in. “Bruce is good anyway. Been almost a year since the last incident, not counting today, and he’s cleared for sex.”

There is a collective lack of breath. Banner - Steve thinks - looks as though he’s trying very hard to pretend he doesn’t think that’s hilarious. He realizes that when they all went to ground, Bruce went right here - he’s been with Stark the whole time, doing... genius science things. And sex, apparently. “I’m straight, for the record,” Bruce notes.

“Real straight.” Tony smirks. “Except for blowjobs.”

“Oral doesn’t count,” Clint jumps in. “Wait, plural blowjobs?”

“All in the name of science. We were in the lab and everything.” 

Stark’s looking directly at him, now. Daring him to say something - obsolete, offensive, with Dr. Banner right there. He's out of his time and maybe out of his depth, but he's not stupid. “I guess it’s an improvement on sticking people with pins,” he says, trying to strip the dismay from his voice.

### 2\. The Only Way Out Is Through

“Shit shit shit, they’ve made her. We need to tell Stark to get out of there,” Clint urges.

So Steve texts him: that they’re onto Widow, he needs to get out of her way and leave.

Jarvis is locked into the security cameras, so they can see Stark take the message, and then fail to obey orders. He pretends to sweep Natalie off her feet with a brilliant display of cell-phone technology, and she pretends to be swept. Down the corridors to Stark’s suite, and then inside - 

“Fuck. What fucking kind of fucking resort is that anyway?”

“The kind that’s up to something, and knows Stark is Iron Man because he said so on national television,” Steve reminds him. “Which is why he was supposed to leave. Jarvis, can you kill the cameras in the suite?”

“No, sir. Passive access only.” And they can see the security watching the same feed they’re getting, and Clint’s texting this time. 

“I told him. Told him to brief Natasha somehow, and do what she says, because if they don’t kill him, and she doesn’t kill him, I will kill him. Tony Stark in a covert op, there is not enough alcohol.” Steve nods his agreement.

As soon as Natasha reads the message, her body language changes from engaged to flirty, and in less than ten minutes Tony’s unzipping her dress.

Stark’s eyes are too wide. That’s the only tell Steve can see, the only indication that what’s happening in the room isn’t for real. And to catch that, you’d have to know that Tony’s never quite gotten over being stabbed in the neck. 

Tony walks Natasha back towards the bed. She folds herself onto it, pulls him in, and then flips them and makes it look easy. She catches Tony’s hand and pulls it up, her other hand on the reactor and looking into Tony’s face.

“That thing in his chest,” Clint guesses. “Is that still classified?”

It must be, because Tony Stark actually lets the Black Widow tie his hands, with his shirt still on. “The only way out is through,” she tells him with a crooked smile. They leave the lights on.

“We’re deleting this recording,” Steve says. 

“Uh huh. Hey Jarvis, send Captain America a copy of the current feed, so he can be moral about it. And send copies to me and the two lovebirds there, too.”

Steve does delete it, but makes the mistake of opening the file Tony sends half a day later, from somewhere over the Atlantic, under the subject: Better Angle. Which is also Tony, but fifteen years younger or more, and a different girl. That one he doesn’t watch but can’t delete, because Tony younger fascinates him a little, makes him wish someone had rescued him earlier. Which was ridiculous; it’s not as though anyone’s managed it yet.

### 3\. Clint: boredom

“So Nat says you’re a good fuck.” The voice is definitely Hawkeye’s, which is bad enough since it’s floating in from another cell. But Steve hopes he heard wrong. 

“You know, prison sex is a cliche, and we’ve only been here two hours. What’s my motivation, Barton?” Steve can’t decide what’s worse: that that is Iron Man, or that the conversation is carrying clearly.

“Boredom. Give Doom a show. Science?”

Stark laughs, and the sound of it echoes. Steve wonders if they bombed Latveria in the war. Maybe they’re in the ancestral dungeons. Tours daily until five, except when the Avengers are in residence. The electrified bars are probably new. That’s one of Tony’s sincere laughs, and Steve almost wants to shake him and point out that this isn’t the right time, or place, or subject, for that kind of laugh.

“Nothing about your charming personality?” Tony’s grinning too, it’s in his voice. Steve half-smiles, opens his mouth to change the subject, when he adds, “Just don’t tell Cap. Unless he actually busts in - and I’d take an ill-timed rescue - it didn’t happen.” It’s startling, to hear his own name in that context.

“Wait, do you think you have some kind of chance with Captain America, or is that shame?”

“I’m never ashamed of sex, Cap doesn’t appreciate my approach to group cohesion, and your biceps are getting less attractive by the word.” And with that, Steve misses his last chance to break in without - without interrupting.

And he can hear - not everything, but enough, and mostly Clint cursing. Tony’s quieter than he was with Natasha, and he can’t help wondering: if he acts differently with men, if he was playing up for the cameras, if he’s had Barton’s cock in his mouth this entire time, and if they can’t just get it over with already.

So Steve sits there, hands on his knees, and tries not to listen. 

Next morning, Tony shorts out the electricity right at the guards’ shift change, and Steve can finally get a grip on the bars without muscle spasms. Stark’s already torn off after his suit, and Hawkeye doesn’t do more than smirk before they both run to give Iron Man the backup he couldn’t wait for.

### 4\. Plausible Deniability

Iron Man fails to respond to orders, taps the side of his helmet when he sees Steve glaring - typical and infuriating, but there’s too much trouble to do more than work around him. Then he opens his helmet, and maybe it really is broken, but it doesn’t matter because within half a minute Loki nails him with a face-full of what looks like dust and is probably magic. He snarls and slams the helmet shut, and that’s the last Cap thinks about it until it’s over. 

“Cap, you ready? I need to get out of the suit.” And nothing in the electronic voice tips him off, he only agrees because as far as he can tell, they’re done. Tony takes the fast way, a claustrophobic chute into the heart of Avengers Tower.

Their lives being what they are, there are two isolation units in the lab. Tony stops at the door of the one that isn’t Hulk-proof, tugging at his gauntlets and then his helmet. “Need some help with the armor,” he admits abruptly.

“Of course,” Steve says, walks over and starts looking for the catches. Hands and helmet, and Stark looks flushed, feverish, and annoyed. He lifts the chestplate and backplate off as a piece, over Tony’s head.

“Got it from here, Cap. Isn’t there a debrief?”

“Casualties before debrief. If you argue, I’ll call in doctors.” It’s an empty threat while Tony Stark can still walk and talk to Jarvis, but he shrugs.

“Loki is a motherfucking bastard,” Tony says as Steve kneels to get the boots free, but then trails off, and when Steve looks up Tony’s staring at him like he doesn't follow. The armor first, though. Steve pries the rest of it off and sets it down carefully and stands, and if he’s beet-red he can’t really help that. Stark could have said something, if he’d wanted notice taken. But then, Stark could have said he’d been hit with an aphrodisiac, instead of letting Steve think he was sick. No damn wonder he wanted out of the armor. 

But it could be both, has to be bad for Stark to volunteer for quarantine. “Wash your face,” Steve says, aiming for brisk and professional.

“My face,” Tony repeats like it’s a joke he’s missed, but lets Steve pull him over to the largest sink. “Do we want this in the water supply?”

“You’ve got filters, Asgard has wells, Loki doesn’t seem like the free-love type. Soap.”

Tony laughs, sharply; they all think it's funny when he references something he wasn't around for. “Guess not. _Fuck_ Loki,” Tony grimaces and bends down to the water. When he pushes back, his hair’s sticking out everywhere, the t-shirt’s soaked through.

“You’ll get chilled,” Steve says, but Tony startles when he reaches for the shirt, grabs his hands. “Tony,” he says, wondering if he’s making all of this worse. If he could be handling it better. “Tony, let me help you with this.”

“No,” Tony says, swallows. He hasn’t let go, gripping so hard - he can’t hurt Steve, might hurt himself. 

Steve nods, because there’s nothing else to do. “Do you want to call someone else?”

“The stuff might be contagious, Cap, and I - Why don’t we both just pretend you weren’t here, okay?” There’s a pleading note in Tony’s voice that stops Steve from offering again. Tony’s pupils are blown, the sheen already back on his skin.

“You look awful, Tony.”

“Sour grapes.” And Steve sputters, and he’s about to tell Tony exactly how much he looks like hell at the moment when Tony laughs, and lets him loose. “The room’s stocked, I’ve got Jarvis, nothing to see here, _go_ , will you?”

Steve shadows him as far as the door. “What should I do about the armor?”

“Down the chute over there, let Jarvis fix it. Later, Cap.” 

“Later, Tony,” Steve says, and hits the intercom button before locking Tony in. 

The only decent thing to do is give him privacy. As much privacy as is reasonable, under the circumstances. Maybe because Jarvis isn’t alive, or maybe because Tony Stark designed him, his sense of what constitutes ‘not okay’ isn’t quite right. If something did happen, he’d have to call people anyway. It only makes sense to stay on hand.

But he doesn’t need to watch. He finds one of the tablet computers Tony has everywhere, sits next to the door and listens instead, to Tony’s breathing and - by necessity - the slide of his hand. The way his breathing catches at the climax. His sporadic conversations with Jarvis.

“Jarvis, you’re not recording, right? If Barton’s been watching, wipe all his hard drives.”

“Jarvis, about Iron Man. Waist down and arms just need polishing. Zap the upper torso and the helmet. Maybe scrap the helmet.”

“Jarvis, what were those twins’ names? The Vancouver twins. Sherry? Jen. Right, no, I wasn’t _planning_ to call, give me some credit.”

“Jarvis, note for tomorrow, make sure Loki’s not spreading this stuff locally. And see if Thor knows what it is, I didn’t think Asgardians needed help in that department.”

“Jarvis, Cap’s not still lurking out there, is he? Don’t tell me Rogers has been hanging around all this time.”

Steve freezes, as though Jarvis might forget him if he holds his breath. Jarvis is already talking. “Sir, Captain Rogers checked in with the remainder of your team two hours ago. The complete briefing has been postponed until eleven a.m. tomorrow, in hopes you will able to participate.” 

“I get dosed with Asgardian drugs and don’t get to miss one meeting? Fuck, Jarvis, that’s not fair.”

So Jarvis can lie to Tony, a little. When they first moved in, Tony claimed that Jarvis couldn’t lie. And after the Fury incident, that Jarvis couldn’t lie to him. He wonders if Tony realizes his computerized butler is smart enough to play dumb. Tony sounds exhausted. Steve opens a new email and types: _JARVIS, he needs to sleep._

A second later, Jarvis delicately suggests to Mr. Stark that he retire for the evening.

“I am sleeping, I mean I’m going to try, did I program you to be a nag? Remind me to do something about that.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll place it at the end of your to-do list.”

“Oh, and tell Steve it’s wearing off, I feel better, all that. And that I’m going to sleep until noon, then make sure my dick and my suit work, so don’t hold the meeting for me.”

“Very good, sir.”

“G’night, Jarvis,” Tony replies. He’s out in hardly over a minute. Jarvis waits two more before informing Steve at low volume that Mr. Stark’s temperature remains slightly elevated, he expects to recover shortly, but has several matters to attend to that will prevent his attending the morning briefing. 

Steve stands up, stretches. “Let me know if anything changes, okay? And thank you, Jarvis.”

 

### 5\. What Happens in Asgard...

Every so often, Bruce or Tony or both try to get their heads around how Asgard works, science-wise. It always ends the same: Tony changes the topic to drinking and Bruce looks pained. This time it’s Bruce, over breakfast, talking about recording and transmitting sound, and how that works for mere mortals. Steve reads the ‘dead-tree’ newspaper he insists on, and half-listens because sound vibrations kind of tie in to how his shield works. Finally Thor exclaims. “Ah! We do have these things you speak of. The Man of Iron experimented with such devices during your stay in Asgard, and made great improvements in techniques for their use.”

Bruce shakes his head. “Trust Tony to violate the prime directive for the sake of better noise. Did he bring his own music too?”

“You misunderstand, friend Banner. These things you speak of - they are intended for a woman’s pleasure.”

The humans take a moment. Steve tries to tune the conversation back out. Then decides he should listen, because anything that happened on Asgard involving Tony Stark and women’s pleasure is potentially a diplomatic issue. If not a war. 

Bruce shakes his head. “I owe Clint twenty. Who was the lady?”

“The Lady Sigyn gave us the benefit of her expertise. Her assistance was invaluable, and I believe Tony Stark also found it so.”

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Bruce murmurs - Star Wars, Steve’s getting pretty good at catching those. He puts the Sports page down.

“Thor, sorry, but - your brother’s wife, Sigyn?” He tries to keep the horror out of his voice, because it’s not going to help anything.

“Their estrangement continues, Captain Rogers. She was in sympathy with our friend’s troubles.” The Asgard trip had been the product of a brainstorming session five months ago. Object: to get Tony Stark’s mind off the way he’d been (justifiably) dumped by Pepper Potts before he blew up the tower. The diplomatic mission had gone well, as far as they could tell. Thor had taken particular responsibility for Tony - keeping him entertained, keeping him out of trouble Earth’s heroes wouldn’t know to avoid.

At least, Steve had thought he had. “Thor...” He’s having trouble finding the right words. “I’m sorry, but I need to ask you to tell me, in as much detail as you’re comfortable with, what happened between you and Stark and the Lady Sigyn.” Doctor Banner kicks him under the table, and after a minute he realizes why.

Thor is comfortable with details.

And Thor loves telling stories, and boasting of his deeds and those of his friends, in exhaustive and poetic detail, and Steve has just volunteered himself and Banner as a willing and interested audience.

By the time the story wraps up, Steve knows what ‘devices’ Sigyn owns, and the ways in which Tony and Thor tested them on themselves and each other, while Loki’s wife fetched them water and mead and told them women’s secrets. The way Thor tells it, it isn’t hard to picture. He’s not embarrassed, this time, for himself or for Tony. He thinks he might be furious.

He can’t ask the heir to Asgard what in hell he thought he was doing - Stark has cornered the market in stupid, provocative, and reckless, he wouldn’t want to compete - there’s only one question left: “Is there any chance that the Lady Sigyn could have gotten pregnant?” 

Thor’s answer to that one is mercifully brief, and mercifully _no._ And apparently Thor finally gets that his audience is not exactly impressed. “Do you believe I did harm to our friend in this adventure?” And damn it, he’s utterly sincere. 

“Stark’s not happy unless he’s poking someone,” Bruce volunteers. “Double meaning intended.”

Steve gets up to wash his dishes. “Your brother paid him back already. Next time, please, leave the Lady Sigyn out of it.”

Because he’s decided: no matter what kind of diplomatic repercussions there might be, he’s heard more than enough about Tony Stark’s sexual adventures with Thor Odinsson.

### +1. Checkmark

Stark doesn’t even turn around when he walks in. “You want to complain about Thor’s poetry, take it somewhere else. I hired someone to pass English for me.” 

Steve hasn’t ever let loose on his own team - something none of the rest of them can say. Now, he grabs the back of Tony’s chair, yanks it back and spins it around - that doesn’t count. Looming over the chair to stop him from walking away - doesn’t count. 

“You listen to me. You _listen_ , Stark. This group barely works, and I _know_ you want it to. So we’re going to agree that this game you’re playing is over. The team is off-limits, do you understand?”

Stark glares right back. “You’re out of line, Rogers. There’s no game; it’s not your business if I fuck everyone in the Tower.”

“You _have_ fucked everyone in the Tower, Tony!”

Tony pauses a second, then shrugs deliberately. “Just about. That your problem, Cap? Afraid I’m coming for you next?” 

When Tony stands, there’s no space between them and Steve has to step back. Tony’s smirk is only a flash, fading into boredom. “I’m done with old men’s hangups, Captain - talk to a SHIELD psych.” One night they’d talked about the modern fascination with therapy; it’s the only thing about the future Tony Stark doesn’t seem to love, and - not the point.

“This is not my problem. I’m talking about you, putting yourself in danger every time. Testing whether you can make Bruce hulk out. You were supposed to _leave_ Widow; Latverian dungeons; Thor and _Loki’s wife_ , Tony. Cut it out.”

“You keep real close watch for a man with no problem. I don’t have a to-fuck list, Rogers. If I did, you wouldn’t be on it.” Tony smiles again, hard and mean. “Although, the Loki thing? I did jerk off to the idea that you’d come in after all, and I’d get to try out that perfect body of yours, see what it can do. Sorry.”

Steve goes red - can’t help it. Can’t help remembering that he’d thought about that, too. Not when Tony was sick, but afterwards. “I offered. You shot me down. What’s your point, Tony?” 

Tony blinks. “You did offer.” He sounds surprised. “You weren’t - but -” His lips keep moving, and usually when Tony does that he’s being a genius, and it’s best to leave him alone. But the last thing Tony figured out about him was _hangups_ , maybe it’s a good thing he’s here to cut this short.

Steve steps forward again, and kisses Tony Stark. 

It’s good, all of it - from the half-second Tony stands there frozen to when they crash back against the table, sending the chair spinning across the room. 

“I don’t have hangups, Tony,” he says at the first opportunity.

“And the Avengers are off-limits, but you get your turn first. Got it.” Tony sits back on the table, grabs his belt buckle and yanks. Tony’s fast, has his belt undone and zipper down almost before he finishes talking. 

Almost before Steve catches the sour trace in his voice - but he’s quick too, catches Tony’s hand. “Hold on.”

Tony jerks his hand back, but Steve’s got the advantage there. “This is what you get, Rogers. Take it or walk away.” 

“I want you, Tony. Not looking for anything else.” It’s not the whole truth. He wants Tony to be careful, to give a damn what he does and who with; wants Tony safe. But, he does want Tony.

Tony leans in. “I’ve been doing this a long time, boy scout. I can smell the ulterior motives on you, and I’ll tell you: I’m going to get what I want and not give up a damn thing.” Meanwhile he’s sliding both hands down to Steve’s hips, and Steve doesn’t want much in the immediate future except Tony to keep going.

When Tony pushes him back, it occurs to him Tony’s going to leave him like this, out of pure spite (if only it were caution). Tony studies him, a second, head tilted. “I’m going to blow you, I promised myself that.” He grabs a fistful of shirt and tugs. “Why are you still dressed? C’mon.”

“The cot’s back over there, Tony,” Steve says. So are the elevators, but this doesn’t need to leave the room, even if the room’s Tony’s workshop.

“That’s for emergencies. We’re going to do this traditional.”

Tony stops halfway down the line of cars - a bright-red convertible from at least a decade ago, when the fashion was squashed and angular - slides into the driver’s seat and opens the top. 

“Traditional,” Steve repeats, not following the logic or allusion or whatever makes this the next obvious step in Tony’s mind.

“Like apple pie, baby,” Tony says, still occupied with settings. 

“Please call me Steve,” he says without much hope. Tony grins, something Steve’s seen maybe twice - a smile that isn’t cynical, drunk, or faked. It’s that - that and the obvious dare in it - that gets him in the back seat. “Tony, I’ve got a bed -”

“One more word, and I’ll turn this car on and drive us to the nearest scenic vista, do this right. Upstate, Steve. Hours. And I know you wouldn’t want me multi-tasking on the way. What’d I say about clothes?”

Steve takes the cue this time, and curses when he bangs his elbow into the door. Tony cheats, stops to watch as soon as he’s gotten his pants down. When Steve tries to help with his tank top, Tony moves in so fast he almost misses the flinch.

Not much he can do about it with Tony against him, taking every advantage this time. “I’m going to suck you off,” he says, asking permission in classic Stark style. Steve thinks he ought to say something but doesn’t know what, and when he comes up with ‘thank you’, Tony almost falls off the seat laughing.

“You’re welcome,” he manages, before getting down to it. 

And technically, the car is still a plain crazy idea, not crazy-brilliant, because Tony would be just as amazing somewhere with full range of motion. Maybe better, except he can’t imagine better with Tony’s mouth on his cock. Or after, when he lets his hand fall out of Tony’s hair, and Tony looks up at him, mouth still wet and red.

“Just, just give me a minute,” he says, between breaths.

“I want to,” Steve tells him, and maybe that’s the magic world in the future, _want_ , because that gets Tony back with him, down to just the shirt and then in his lap. 

“All yours, soldier,” and he tips his head back with a groan when Steve touches his erection. Then leans forward, talks through it in a low, shaky voice. Half of it’s complaints - Steve knows what ‘cocktease’ means, and says he’s not going to rush just because Tony Stark wants everything _now_.

“I take it back, you’re a really - a terrible person, Rogers, I had no idea,” and Steve kisses Tony’s neck and starts stroking him.

Tony’s litany doesn’t falter, mostly _faster, jesus, you’re so big, your hands, don’t stop, don’t dammit_ , then a sharp intake of breath and, “oh wow, wow is that you? already?” because Steve’s getting hard again, and he barely has time to be embarrassed before Tony’s finding a way to grind down against him. “I want you to fuck me - wouldn’t that be good, don’t stop, not here but I want you in me, Steve, baby, I’ll show you.” Steve wonders how long it will take to break Tony of calling him that. Would take. And suddenly it’s Tony setting the rhythm for both of them, fast and hard, and his orgasm hits just as Tony goes slack against him.

“Okay, hey, arm.” He moves it, it’s being poked at, and Tony peels away to sit next to Steve, behind the driver’s seat, head tilted back. It occurs to Steve that he’s sitting in a garage, in one of a dozen cars, without a stitch on.

When he laughs, Tony turns his head without raising it. “Share the joke or shut up.”

“Mm,” Steve says, closing his eyes. He still wants Tony, he thinks. Tony safe; Tony happy. Tony in a bed. He didn’t get a thing he came down here for, just like Tony said; Tony doesn’t need to know that he can see the humor in it. 

“Okay, no, what?” Tony’s worrying over it, and Steve reaches for his hand, says the first thing that comes to mind.

“Just, all this. Thanks, Tony.” 

Tony laughs, surprised. “You’ve got to stop doing that, Cap. But you’re welcome.” His grin is wicked, but easy. “My pleasure.”


	2. Trial Runs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony is an unreliable narrator, and Steve isn't sure what he's looking at.

### 1\. Phone

These days, Tony Stark shows up at parties just to prove that last week’s wannabe-supervillain didn’t grind him to paste. And that getting dumped by Pepper Potts hasn’t made him any less Tony Stark, which is why he’s chatting up a cute publicist even though he has a 40’s-flavored booty call burning a hole in his pocket. 

Actually, Cap texted to ask if he was coming home alone, which could also mean he doesn’t want to deal with a strange woman at breakfast again. Which won’t happen, it was a coding glitch on the elevator. But Tony put the quid pro quo on the table, then started making certain he’ll have company even if Cap takes offense. His pocket buzzes, and he even thinks about apologizing as he checks it, but now it’s official so he doesn’t have to.

Steve Rogers likes sex. Which Tony didn’t really figure on, until he thought about the ‘peak of human perfection’ thing. Of course he’d like sex, and a lot of it. Or, maybe a lot. Steve’s not shy about grabbing _his_ dick, but Tony isn’t sure he knows his way around his own. Not that he’s been watching. But then, Steve got an eyeful of him and Widow on that one mission, and Thor’s sex-toy party saga, and Steve definitely wasn’t looking.

Cap’s in the main room of the Avengers floor, per Jarvis. “Tony,” he says, and kisses him - right there, and he can hear the TV on in the next room. Lord of the Rings, so that’s Thor, Barton, Bruce? “Hi?” He should not look shocked, he is not shocked, he just doesn’t understand the train of thought that led to potentially-public kissing. And Steve prodding him back to the elevator with a hand on his back, like he needs a guide or something, but it’s almost - and they’re going to Steve’s floor?

Tony’s room has all the supplies. They’ve messed around in the garage, which is really Tony’s garage; public areas are off-limits except for apparently that kiss. But Steve’s floor, so either this isn’t sex at all or Cap’s gone shopping. Tony’s a little proud, really, but he was happy to share. Steve does not kiss him in the elevator. 

But he pushes him back against the wall, before he can get a good look at what Steve’s done with the place. And he’s kissing Captain America, which is neat. But not as good as the sex, so he starts untucking Steve’s shirt. 

“Got a plan?” he asks - because Steve does make plans. Plans that factor in recovery times, and how many rounds they’re good for, and maybe how much Tony likes sucking Captain America’s dick. 

Tony’s always just gone for whatever he thought he could get. The car, that was his show, and mostly the second time too. But somewhere in there, Steve started doing the math - and the research - on his own. Tony’s archiving that browser history for a rainy day, and in the meantime, he’s starting to lose count of how many times he’s gotten naked with Captain America. And if he wants to know what’s on the agenda, he can ask.

“I’’ll top this time,” Cap tells him. “But with you on top -”

“Riding you -”

“Yes. I think that will work - I don’t want to hurt you.”

Steve makes good plans, even if they come out sounding like mission briefings. This one’s about what Tony would have come up with, for that. If he’d thought Steve was on board, and if he made plans instead of just blurting out ideas or using them for his own solo sessions. 

“Won’t happen,” Tony promises. “Let’s do it.”

### 2\. Peace

Tony wanders into the Avengers’ living room with bags of takeout and a suit. Steve lets himself stare: Tony Stark mostly seems to live in jeans and twenty-year-old t-shirts. And hasn’t personally involved himself with acquiring food since the shawarma. 

“Everyone’s out,” Steve says.

“Yeah, Jarvis just said.” Tony shrugs. “Their loss. Want to take it upstairs?”

Steve sets out the takeout boxes on a coffee table; Tony doesn’t have a table up here, just a bar and couches, and that glassed-over dent in the floor. Tony wanders the room - strips off his jacket and tie, makes himself a drink, fiddles with the lighting. He settles on mostly dark, showcasing the city view. And the arc reactor. Steve thinks the blue light makes him look too pale, too tired.

“Nice,” Tony says - smiling at Steve, not the setup. “How about dessert first?” 

It’s the sort of line Bucky would have played for laughs, that probably hasn’t worked for a solid century. Unless, apparently, you’re Tony Stark. Steve shakes his head. “Didn’t find any in the bags. Eat before it gets cold.” Tony rolls his eyes - instead of commenting on Steve’s outdated ideas about food, or orders, or grasp of innuendo - and picks a carton at random.

He’s got Tony pressed against the arm of the sofa, unbuttoning his shirt, when he realizes what’s so different - not the dark, not the lights. “Tony?”

“Mmm,” Tony says against his neck.

“You’re real quiet,” he says, and makes it a question. Rests his hand at Tony’s waist (not chest).

“Oh, I - guess so. I can - not, I mean. If you want -”

“It’s just different. You’re okay?”

“I’m good,” Tony says, the tension starting to ease back out of his shoulders. “Trying new things - that’s what we’re here for, right?” Something in his expression, which could just be the arc reactor after all, and Tony leans up to kiss him.

### 3\. Protocol

Jarvis has a protocol for the nights Tony brings company home. If Tony falls asleep, if he isn’t already up and gone before six, Jarvis wakes him up. Some combination of noise, temperature fluctuation, blinking lights if he’s turned the right way. Tony sleeps light, especially when he’s sharing the bed. There’s a Pepper exception, he keeps forgetting to take that out.

Tony wakes up to his door opening. He sits up and blinks at what looks like Captain America, carrying a stack of blankets. “Didn’t mean to wake you. It got cold.” He’s wearing a running suit. With the hood up. He looks ridiculous.

Tony finally thinks of something to contribute to the situation. “Jarvis, ‘m awake, turn on the heat. Is that every blanket in the tower?”

Steve winces in a forgot-Jarvis-again kind of way. “I get cold. Don’t you?”

“I drink coffee, coffee’s warm.” Until he forgets about it for an hour, anyway. “Did you bring any coffee?”

“I was going to let you sleep.”

“Your plan is unsalvageable, Cap,” but he’s smiling, isn’t he, even though there’s no coffee and he’s not going to remember to update Jarvis without it. Maybe he enjoys crushing Captain America’s hopes and dreams. “Just come here and warm up.”

### 4\. Protection

“My test came back clean,” Tony says. “If you want to see.” He’s unbuttoning his shirt, but not going slow enough for a strip-tease; it’s the mind-elsewhere-autopilot-fingers slow. 

“I was looking to see you naked, Tony, but whatever you want.”

Stark narrows his eyes at him; forgets the shirt half-done. “VD tests, Cap. I get them regular, it’s been six months. So whatever _you_ want. Your call.”

Ton had suggested skipping the condoms the first time they made it to a bedroom, third time they’d fooled around. It would have been alright for Steve, but Tony’s only human, and he’s the one who sleeps around. A lot. So he figured, Tony should stay in the habit of using protection, even when it isn’t strictly necessary. But -

“You haven’t slept with anyone else in six months.” Tony kept his word about the Avengers, but he spends time out being Tony Stark, too. 

“I’ve been busy, Cap. Inventing. Avenging. I couldn’t even jerk off in February, fucking Magneto. There’s a window here, enjoy it.” He’s laying out supplies: lube, condom. Things they sometimes use. Tony doesn’t always remember setup. Keeping his hands busy.

“I didn’t - huh. Tony, is this -?”

“Sex,” Tony all but snaps. “At least I hope it is. Problem?”

If there’s a problem, it’s that they haven’t talked about it, not since Tony swore it was just sex, and just once. ‘Just once’ turned into an almost regular thing months ago. If ‘just sex’ has gone out the window too, well -

“Yeah, problem. Your shirt’s still on,” Steve says, and steps close to get the last two buttons, slide the shirt down Tony’s arms. Hears Tony’s breath catch. Well, then he knows he can keep Tony Stark busy. Maybe even happy. He’s got worse problems.

### 5\. Plans

This is how Tony Stark fucks up sleeping with Captain America:

You can’t do something for almost a year without some kind of routine. One of them is - was, Cap asks about his schedule, Tony says it’s clear, and then they sleep where they are or the nearest bed to it, so they can go another round in the morning. 

This time, Tony got drunk. Not too drunk for sex, but not thinking much past the moment. Forgetting that fewer-holds-barred sex with Steve means kicking him out so he doesn’t see bruises he’d worry about; forgetting that he’s going to feel like shit in the morning anyway. He’d thought he was getting good at pretending he’s not a fuck-up.

So the morning was a bitch; and then Steve started going on about how Tony was too drunk to consent, which is the first time Tony has ever heard that phrase _at_ him, and it’s fascinating. And then how Tony’s, it’s, not safe, and the first thing he thinks - and he thinks it the same time he says it - is, “but I was with you,” and then he hears _that_ and follows it with, “Y’know, no, not doing this,” and walking away. Ten floors down the elevator to his workshop, not his best exit, so he tops it off with a thirty-six hour lockout.

He works on the armor. The armor never tells him he’s too drunk. (Or, it does, but he programmed that, it’s good.) When he is too drunk for engineering specifications, he calls Pepper. Puts her on speaker, spins in his chair until he feels sick again, until he thinks he sees Steve at the door, and why is the entrance glass anyway? Maybe it worked in Malibu; here it’s like he’s a zoo exhibit. He plants his feet before finishing the next turn.

### +1. Progress

Everything goes back to normal. That is, Tony Stark making up for lost time in the workshop and tabloids, and Steve Rogers wondering what the hell he’s doing in this century.

He finally runs into Tony coming out of the kitchen - juggling a phone, two coffees and something slushy and green. He saves the green stuff, helps Tony fit the phone back under his ear. “Thanks, Cap,” Tony says before disappearing down the hall. 

Everyone seems to be looking at him when he walks through to the kitchen. Not that they could have seen anything; not that the first real interaction he’s had with Tony in weeks was anything to see. He shrugs, and heads for the refrigerator. 

“We should lock them up together,” Clint says solemnly. “It’s what Coulson would have wanted.” 

Oh. “I can handle it myself,” Steve says, not turning around. He thinks he might understand why Tony was so loaded down.

“Then do that,” Natasha suggests, in that tone of hers that sounds more like an order.

* * *

Nineteen hours later, it’s all over except the arguing. The invasion of Hindenberg squid (trademark Stark) had been repelled, and working out the cause had been going fine until Thor took offense to the leading theory (Loki). Steve breaks in on the com: “Briefing at 0900, Avengers. Let’s call it a night.” 

“Want a lift?” Tony hasn’t raised his faceplate, and there’s never much color in Iron Man’s voice. It’s unnerving. But it’s something like a peace offering, so he takes it.

Tony's in jeans and a tank top after the armor is plucked away, and he tries to spike his hair again as he strolls off the reverse assembly line to where Steve jumped off.

"Tony," Steve starts. Stops, and starts again. "Can I kiss you?" 

Tony blinks hard. "Yeah?" So he steps in. _He's_ still in uniform, just the cowl pushed off. It's a good kiss, warm and familiar.

"Okay," Tony says, and even though he’s stepped back, he hasn’t dropped his hands, fingers running down a seam on Steve’s arm. "I can probably stay awake for this."

It’s as easy as he knew it was going to be. Tony Stark’s a hedonist, offer him something that feels good, in easy reach, he’s not going to say no. He’ll say it doesn’t count, doesn’t matter, won’t happen again, but he won’t say no. What he doesn’t expect is Tony telling him all this while they’re in the middle of, well - 

They are ruining Tony Stark’s couch. Tony’s stripped, Steve is. Tony pulled out some rubbers he must’ve been carrying in his back pocket all day, opened a bottle of motor oil with a quick jerk and then went back to explaining why this is all a bad idea. “I’ve done this before, had this _talk_ before, um, usually after - you’re going to say this is amazing sex, it is, it will be - but I can get pretty _good_ sex - and you should get a girlfriend not - ambush me just because I’m - I’m here and not very -"

It would be rude to interrupt. He pays more attention to what Tony's doing while he runs his mouth. Tasting him, smelling even - like Steve smells like anything other than a guy who’s been boiling in a leather suit for hours. Losing patience and pulling Steve down.

“I don’t want a girlfriend, Tony,” Steve says, when he’s all the way in and Tony’s lost his train of thought. “We have something; I want more of that.”

“It’s kind of a thing,” Tony allows, after a moment. And then, “how much more, Cap?”

Steve hasn’t let himself think about what he’d ask for, if he could ask for the moon. But it doesn’t take long. “Exclusive,” he says. “And public. And for God’s sake, call me Steve.”

Tony’s turn to blink. “Steve. Okay. Steve, hand me my phone, I’ll take care of everything, and for the love of God, Steve, will you _move_?”

Tony’s phone has the internet, and cameras, and can hijack any kind of media feed within an unfortunate radius. Steve scraps that idea instantly, and Tony forgets it pretty quick too. And then falls asleep. 

“Tony. Tony. _Tony._ Is there anything in your bedroom I should know about?”

“Just the bed, Cap. _Steve._ Hell.” Tony grins. “Told you Natasha is scary.” 

A few dots connect. Tony’s offer, and how he was carrying rubbers in, well, _not his size_. And Jarvis. “You planned this.”

“Saw an opportunity,” Tony says, sounding exhausted _and_ smug. “Evil squid are totally Loki, and you like to be in charge anyway.”

“We don’t know they were hostile,” Steve reminds him, navigating.

“They explode, I’m with Barton.”

“Sleep, Tony.”

“Sure, Cap. _Steve._ ‘night, Steve.”

“Goodnight, Tony.” It’ll probably still go out on Twitter. But Tony’s here, sleeping, and barring villainy or a tech conference, he will be tomorrow, too. Steve closes his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Working title: 5+1 of Idiocy. The 'Hindenburg squid' are borrowed with apologies from Sergyar and Lois McMasters Bujold. Loki had nothing to do with it (maybe). 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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